According to History. From Harper's Weekly. A woman in a western city, who be longs to a community called the “Sis ters of St. John the Baptist,” not long ago spent a month in a backwoods district. ! Shortly after her arrival she went the local postofllce and Inquired It any letters had come for Sister faernardine. The rural postmaster looked bewildered. "Sister who?” he asked, incredulous- j ly “Sister Bernardlne,” repented the I lady. "A sister of St. Jahn the Bap tist." “I think not." he answered dubious ly. Then, after soino reflection, he added: “Say, ain't he been dead pretty near }00 years now?" This is the story of a housekeeper who had rather a small stock of pa tience. She went Into her kitchen one day to direct the preparation of din ner. She found George, her Japanese cook, poring over a book. “What are you reading?” she asked. ''Schopen hauer," George replied. "Do you think you can understand such philosophy?" the mistress Inquired, "yes, honorable (nadam. I understand It; I apply it. When you come to tell me how to cook, tt Is good to remember what the white man says about women. I read here, then I not mind what you say." What He Thought. The Quietly Dressed Man—No, sir; 1 never take advantage of anybody who is not ready to take advantage of some one else. The Loud-Dressed Man—Shake; I’m a bunco steerer myself. tmrs. Wlniiow i ooonmra n>cv tor cmlMros •chine; aoftena tIsa gems, rodooee imUmmeuoa. »■ f» pale-our*oaai«S colit. oont a bottla Got Square With the Judge, From the Atlanta Georgian. A raw mountaineer got back at Judge Mose Wright of the Rome circuit In a very clever way. While the judge was presiding over the Chattooga superior court he had occasion to plaster a $16 fine on this man because he failed to appear In time as a witness In a case. "Say, Jedge, haln’t that purty steep?" mildly Inquired the Chattoogan. "No," was the reply. You knew you were an Important witness In this case and ought to have been here. I will •uspend payment, however, and hold It over you to see that there Is no like trouble In the future.” Later Judge Wright was spending a , few weeks at Menlo, a popular summer resort In Chattooga county, several 'miles from a railroad. He had a pack •age to come out from Summerville and ithe big mountaineer happened to de Jlver It, "Well, what do I owe you?" asked the judge genially, reaching for his change pocket, "Wall, Jedge, I reckon about $15 would square us," was the calm reply. "What?" yelled Judge Wright, stag gering back. “Mebbe you won't be so deni keer less next time 'bout leavin' yo' pack ages,” was the Imperturbable answer. "Look here,” whispered the perturbed Jurist, "I'll Just remit that $15 fine I 'put on you down in Summerville." "Old ap, Beck. That 'bout squares ms. Jedgo." It's true all right, because Judge Wright tells It oil himself. A Convenient 'Possum. 1 JFrom the Atlanta Constitution. An old negro preacher gave as his text—"De tree Is known by his fruit, an' hit des onpossible ter shake de 'pos sum down." After the benediction an old brother Bald to him: 'T never knowed befo' dat such a text was In de blble." “Well," admitted the preacher, "hit •ain’t 'xactly sot down dataway. I •th’owed In de 'possum ter hit de intelli gence er my congregation!" His Business. Stranger—I’ve lived a very fast life for the past 10 years. Preacher—Why don't you give It up $nd reform? Stranger—Reform nothing; I'm a lallroad engineer. MOTHER AND CHILD. Both Fully Nonrlsticd on Grape-Nuts. The value of this famous foot! is shown In many ways. In addition to what might be expected from Its chemi cal analysis. Grape-Nuts food is made of whole wheat and barley, Is thoroughly baked for many hours and contains all the wholesome Ingredients in these cereals. It contains also the phosphate of pot ash grown In the grains, which Nature uses to build up brain and nerve cells. Young children require proportion ately more of this element because the brain and nervous system of the child grows so rapidly. A Va. mother found the value of Grape-Nuts In not only building up her own strength but In nourishing her baby at the same time. She writes:’ “After my baby enme I did not re cover health and strength, and the doc tor said I could not nurse the baby as I did uot have nourishment for her, besides I was too weak. “He said I might try a change of diet and see what that would do. and recommended Grape-Nuts food. 1 bought a pkg. and used It regularly. A marked change came over both baby and I. “My baby Is now four months old. Is In fine condition, I am nursing her nml doing all my work and never felt better in my life.” “There's a Rea ■on.” Name given by Poetnm Co. Battle Creek, Mich. Read “The Road to Well* vllle.” in pkgs. Ever read the above ietter? A new one appears from time to time. They are genuine, true, and full of human Interest. I ^ THF.__ Story of Francis Cludde A Romance of Queen Mary's Reign. BY STANLEY J. WEYMAN. CHAPTER XXII—Continued. "God save the queen!" ho shouted and out of respect for the knight he slipped from his saddle and promptly fell on his back in the road. "Aye. to be sure, God save the queen!" echoed Sir Anthony, taking off his hat again. “You are right, man!" Then he hurried on, not noticing the messenger's miskfip. The tidings he had heard seemed of such Importance, and he was so anxious to tell them to his household—for the greatest men have weaknesses, and news such as this comes seldom in a lifetime—that he strode on to the house nnd over the drawbridge Into the court yard without looking behind him. He loved order and decent observ ance, but there are times when a cat, to get to the cream pan, will wet its feet. He stood now in the middle of the court yard, and raising his vcJTce shouted for his daughter, "Ho, Petro lillla, do you hear, girl! Father! Fathar Carey! Martin Luther! Bald win!" and so on until half the house hold were callected. "Do you hear, all of you? The queen is dead! God rest her soul!" "Amen!” said Father Carey, as be came him, putting in his word amid the wondering silence which followed, while Martin Luther and Baldwin, who were washing themselves at the pump, stood with their heads dripping and their mouths agape. "Amen!” echoed the knight. "And long live the queen! Long live Queen Elizabeth!" he continued, having now got his formula by heart. And he swung his hat. There was a cheer, a fairly loud cheer, but there was one who did not join in it. and that was Petronllla. 'She, listening at her latt'ce up stairs, began at once to think, as was her habit when any matter great or small fell out, whether this would affect the fortunes of a certain person far away. It might, It might not. She did not know'. But the doubt so far entertained her that she came down to supper with a heightened color, not thinking In the least, poor girl, that the event might have dire consequences for others al most us dear to her and nearer home. Every year since his sudden de parture a letter from Francis Cludde had come to Coton—a meager letter, which had passed through many hands and which reached Sir Anthony now through one channel, now through an other. The knight grumbled and swore over these letters, which never con tained an address to which an answer could be forwarded, nor said much, save that the writer was well and sent his love and duty and looked to re turn, til being well. But, meager as they were and loud as he swore at them, he put them religiously away in an oak chest in his parlor, and an oiner always put away tor uei uunio something else, which was Invariably Inclosed—a tiny swallow’s feather. The knight never said anything about the feather, neither asked the meaning of Its presence nor commented upon Its absence when Petronllla gave him back the letter. But for days after each of these arrivals he would look much at his daughter, would follow her about with his eyes, be more regular In bid ding her attend him In his walk and more particular In seeing that she had the tidbits of the Joint. For Petronllla, It cannot be said, though I think In after times she would have liked to make some one believe It, that she wasted away. But she did take a more serious and thoughtful air In these days, which she never, God bless her, lost afterward. There came from Wootton Wawen and from Hen ley in Arden and from Cookhlll gen tlemen of excellent estate to woo her, but they all went away disconsolate after drinking very deeply of Sir An thony's ale and strong waters. And some wondered that the good knight did not roundly take the Jade to task and see her settled. But he did not. So possibly even In these days he had other views. I have been .told that, going up once to her little chamber to seek her, he found a very singular ornament suspended Inside her lattice. It was no other than a common clay house martin’s nest, but It was so deftly hung In a netted bag end so daintily swathed In moss always green and the Christmas roses and snowdrops and violets and doffodils which decked It in turn were always so pure and fresh and bright—as the knight learned by more than one stealthy visit afterward—that, coming down the steep steps, he could not see clearly and stumbled against a cookboy and beat him soundly for getting In his way. To return, however. The news of the queen’s death had scarcely been well digested at Coton, nor the mass for her soul, which Father Carey celebrated with much devotion, been properly criticised, before another surprise fell upon the household. Two strangers ar rived, riding, late one evening, and rang the great bell while all were at supper. Baldwin and the porter went to see what It was and brought back a message which drew the knight from his chair as a terrier draws a rat. | "You are drunk!” he shouted, purple ■ In the face and fumbling for the stick which usually leaned against his seat ready for emergencies. "How dare you bring cock and bull stories to me?” “It Is true enough!" muttered Bald win sullenly, a stout door man, not much afraid of his master, but loving him exceedingly. "1 knew him again myself." Sir Anthony strode firmly out of the room, and tn the courtyard near the great gate found a man and a woman standing In the dusk. He walked up to the former and looked him In the face. "What do you here?" he said In a strange, hard voice. "I want shelter for a night for my self and my* wife, a meal and some words with you—no more," was the an swer. "Give me this." the stranger continued, “which every idle passerby ' may claim at Coton End, and you shall | see no more of me, Anthony." I For a moment the knight seemed to j hesitate. Then be answered, pointing sternly with his hand: "There Is the hall, and supper. Go and eat and drink, , or stay!" he resumed. And he turned and gave some orders to Baldwin, who I went swiftly to the hall, and In a mo l ment came again. "Now, go! What | you want the servants will prepare for | you." "I want speech of you," said the new core. I Sir Anthony seemed about to refuse, , but thought better of It. “You can I come to my room when you have | supped," he said In the same ungrae | ious tone, speaking with his eyes 1 averted. "And you—do you not take supper?" "I have finished." said the knight, albeit he had eaten little. And he turned on ills heel. Very few of those who sat round the table and watched with astonishment the tail stranger's entrance knew him I again. It was 13 years since Ferdinand Cludde had last sat there—sitting there | of right. And the 13 years had worked much change in him. When he found I'hat Petronilla, obeying her father's message, had disappeared, he said haughtily that his wife would sup in her own room, and with a flashing eye and curling lip bade Baldwin see to It. Then, seating himself in a place next Sir Anthony's, he looked down the board at which all sat silent. His sar castic eye, hls high bearing, Ills man ner—the manner of one who had gone long with hls life In his hand—awed these simple folk. Then, too, he was a Cludde. Father Carey was absent that evening. Martin Luther had one of those turns, half sick, half sullen which alternated with his moods of merriment and kept hls straw pallet In some corner or other. There was no one to come between the servants and this dark visaged stranger, who was yet no stranger. lie hod hls way and hls talk with Sir Anthony, the latter lasting far into the night and producing odd results. In the first place, the unbidden guest and hls wife staid on over next day and over many days to come and seemed grad uaily to grow more and more at home, the knight began to take long walks and rides with hls brother, and from each walk and ride came back with a more gloomy face and a curter manner Petronilla, hls companion of old, found herself set aside for her uncle and cast for society, on Ferdinand’s wife the strange young woman with the brilliant eyes, whose odd changes from grave to gay rivaled Martin Luther's and who now scared the girl by wild laugh ter and wilder gibes and now moved her to pity by fits of weeping or dark moods of gloom. That Uncle Ferdl nand s wife stood In dread of her hus band Petronilla soon learned and even i began to share this dread, to shrink from his presence and to shut herself up mot,; and more closely in her own chamber. There was another, too. who grew to b? tr£ubied about th,« time, and that was hather Carey. The good natured* 2I,r f received with joy and thank fulness the news that Ferdinand Cludde bad sae" h,la errors and re-entered the fold, but when he had had two or three interviews with the convert his brow too grew clouded and his mind trou bled He learned to see that the ac cession of the young Protestant queen must hear fruit for which he had a poor appetite. He began to spend many hours in the church, the church which u ,?2"T.aI1 hls llfe- wrestled much with himself. If hls face were any Index to hls soul. Good, kindly man he was not of the stufT of which martyrs are made, and to be forced, pushed on and goaded Into becoming a martyr against one’s will—well, the rather s position w as a hard one as was that In those days of many a good and learned clergyman bred tn one church and bidden suddenly, on pain of losing hls livelihood, If not his life, to migrate to another. i ne visitors had beon fn the house a month and in that month an observant ”might have noted much change, though all things In seeming went on before when the queen’s orders en joining all priests to read the service or a great part of it. in English, came down, being forwarded by the sheriff to bather Carey. The missive arrived on a Flrday and had been Indeed long expected. "What shall you do?” Ferdinand asked Sir Anthony. "As before!” the tall old man replied, gripping his staff more firmly. It was no new subject between therm A hun drew times they had discussed it al ready. even as they Here now discuss ing it, on the terrace by the flshpool, with the church which adjoins the house full in view across the garden. "I will have no mushroom faith at Cotcn End," the knight continued warmly. "It sprang up under King Henry, and how long did it last? A year or two. It came in again under King Edward, and how lo'ng did it last? A year or two. So it will be again. It will not last., Ferdinand." "I am of that mihd," the younger man answered, nodding his head grave ly “Of course you are!" Sir Anthony re joined as he rested one hand on the sun dial. "For 10 generations our fore fathers have worshiped in that church after the old fashion and shall It be changed in my day? Heaven forbid! The old fashion did for my fathers. It shall do for me. Why, I would as soon expect that the river yonder should How backward as that the church which has stood for centuries, and more years to the back of them than I can count should be swept away by these hot gospelers! I will have none of them' I will have no new fangled ways at Coton End!" "Well. I think you are right!” the younger brother said. By what means he had brought the knight to this mind without committing himself more fully I cannot tell. Yet so it was. Ferdinand showed himself always the cautious doubter. Father Carey even must have done him that Justice. But—and this was strange—the more doubtful he showed htmself the more stubborn grow his brother. There are men so shrewd as to pass off stones for bread, and men so simple minded as to take some thing less than the word for the deed. "Why should it come in our time?" cried Sir Anthony, fractlously. "Why indeed?" quoth the subtle one. "I say, why should it come now? I have heard and read of the sect called Bollards who gave trouble awhile ago. But they passed, and the church stood. So will these gospelers pass, and the church will stand.” "That Is our experience, certainly,” said Ferdinand. “I hate change!" the old man con tinued. his eyes on tTi- old church, the old tlmebered house—for only the gate way tower at Coton is of stone—the old yew trees in the churchyard. "I do not believe in It, and, what is more I will not have it. As my fathers have wor shiped so will I, though it cost me every rood of land! A ftg for the order in council!" “If you really will not change with the younger generations”— "I will not!” replied the old knight, sharply. "There is an end of it!" Today the reformed church in Eng land has seen many an anniversary and grown stronger with each year, and we can afford to laugh at Sir Anthony's arguments. We know bettor than he did, for the proof of the pudding Is in the eating. But in him and his fellows, who had only the knowledge of their own day, such arguments were natural enough. All time, all experience, all history ar.d custom and habit as known to them were on their side. Only it was once again to be the battle of David and the giant of Oath. Sir Anthony had said. "There is an end of it!" But his companion, as he presently strolled up to the house with a smile on his saturnine face, well knew that this was ! only the beginning of It. This was Fri day. On the Sunday, a rumor of the order having gone abroad, a larger congrega tion than usual streamed across the chase to church, prepared to hear some new thing. They were disappointed. Sir Anthony stalked In, as of old, through the double ranks of people waiting at the door to receive him, and after him Ferdinand and his wife and Petronllla and Baldwin and every ser vant from the house save a cook or two and the porter. The church was full. Seldom has such a congregation been seen In It. But all passed as of old. Father Carey's hand shook Indeed, and his voice quavered, but he went through the ceremony of the mars, and all was done In Latin. A little charge would have been pleasant, some thought. But no one in this country place on the borders of the forest held very strong views. No bishop had come - heretic-hunting to,Coton End. No abbey existed to excite dislike by Its extrav agance, or by Its license, or by the swarm of ragged Idlers it supported. Father Carey was the most harmless and kindest of men. The villagers did not care one way or the other. To them Sir Anthony was king, and if any one felt tempted to Interfere the old knight’s face, as he gazed steadfastly at the brass effigy of a Cludde who had fallen in Spain fighting against the Moors, warned the meddler to be silent. And so on that Sunday all went well. But some one must have told tales, for early In the week there came a strong letter of remonstrance from the sheriff, who was an old friend of Sir Anthony, and of his own free will, I fancy, would have 'winked. But he was committed to the Protestants and bound to stand or fall with them. The choleric knight sent back an answer by the same mes senger. The sheriff replied, the knight rejoined—having his brother always at his elbow. The upshot of the corre spondence was an announcement on tlie part of the sheriff that he should send his officers to the next service to seer that the queen’s order was obeyed and a reply on the part of Sir Anthony that he should as certainly put the men In the duck pond. Some Inkling of this state of things got abroad and spread as a September fire files through a wood, so that there was like to be such a congregation at the next service to witness the trial of strength as would throw the last Sunday’s gathering alto gether Into the shade. It was clear at last that Sir Anthony ! himself did not think that there was the end of It, for on that Saturday afternoon he took a remarkable walk. He .called Petronllla after dinner and bade her get her hood and come with him. and the girl, who had seen so little of her father In the last month, and who, what with rumors and fears and surmises, was eating her heart out, ODeyea nim wun joy. xt was a nne frosty day near the close of December. Sir Anthony led the way over the plank bridge which clossed the moat In the rear of the house and tramped steadily through the home farm toward a hill called the Woodman's View, which j marked the border of the forest. He J did not talk, but nether was he sunk ! In reverie. As he entered each Held ha stood and scanned It, at times merely nodding, at times smiling; or again j muttering a few words, such as, "The three acre piece! My father Inclosed It!” or, "That Is where Ferdinand killed the old mare!” or. "The best land for wheat on this side of the house!" The hill climbed, he stood a Tong time gaz ing over the landscape, eyeing first the fields and meadows whfch stretched away from his feet toward the house, the latter, as seen from this point, los ing all Its stateliness In the mass of stacks and ricks and bams and gran aries which surrounded ft. Then his eyes traveled farther In the same line to the broad expanse of woodland— Coton Chase—through which the road passed along a ridge as straight as an arrow. To the right were more fields,' and here and there amid them a home stead with Us smaller ring of stacks and barns. When he turned to the left, I his eyes, passing over the shoulders of, Brant hill and Mill Head copse and ! Beacon hill, all bulwarks of the forest, followed the streak of river as ft wound away toward Stratford through lusci ous flood meadows, here growing wide and there narrow as the woodland ad vanced or retreated. "It is all mine," he said as much to himself as to the girl. “It Is all Cludde land as far as you can see.” There were tears in her eyes, and she had to turn away to conceal them. Why she hardly knew, for he said nothing more, and he walked down the hill dry eyed, but all the way home he still looked sharply about, noting this or that, as If he were bidding farewell to the old familiar objects, the spinneys and copsgs—aye, and the very gates and gaps and the hollow trees where the owls built. It was the saddest and most pathetic walk the girl had ever taken. Yet there was nothing said. (Continued Next Week.) Conniption Fit. From the New York Press. "When George told Anna that she must decide between Sagan and the half of her fortune the poor little woman (who has had a great deal more than her share of trouble) didn't fall Into a conniption fit, as most of us would have done, but simply stamped her foot and used a small French cuss word, about the equivalent of “plague take It.” This sage remark fell from the lips of a luxurious matron riding In a pay-as-you-enter car. Her free and easy manner and her rather care less loudness of voice Indicated the part of the country from which she came. As she left the car at Seventy-fourth street passengers who had yard her were ask ing each other—"What Is a conniption fit?" When -a woman "throws a conniption fit” she Is In her tantrums. A tantrum Is a fit of passion or an attack of petu lant hysteria. Conniption Is sometimes used alone and has about the same mean ing as' conniption fit. OccaslonaU^Mttr. Maine) It is connuptlon. The word was bred In New England, and Is about as old, as Rhode island. It Is common enough today wherever the descendants of the Down Easters are settled. Conniption fit Is a term used exclusively by women. To connlp Is to laugh violently. Reading the Signals. Newcomers to Now York by steam ship begin to learn things about tho city as soon as their vessel gets headed up the harbor. There was a party of such on board an Incoming vessel re cently. From the roof of a high down town office building they saw what appeared to be a string of signal flags flapping in the breeze. Some were white, serne were striped, and one big one was a flaming red. “If we only knew the code we could tell what they mean," said a member of the party. "Perhaps they Indicate what channel we are to take up the river." "Or maybe, they are weather warn ings of some kind,” guessed another. "Lot’s ask one of the officers to And out." Thev did. The officer looked first with the naked eye and then with nls glasses. "That’s the janitor’s family wash hung out on the roof to dry,” he an nounced, brutally, as he finished his survey. "The big ieu one is a table cloth." Turkey Imported and used last year I 5.363,760 pounds of ordinary soap and 1 31,130 pounds of toilet soap. “MOONSHINERS” IN MIDST OF BIG CITY 1 Revenue Officers in Cleveland Kept Busy Hunting Out Illicit Whisky Makers. Cleveland, Special: There are moon shiners In Cleveland. It Is commonly supposed that the manufacture of Illicit whisky Is confined to the mountainous region of Kentucky, Tennessee and oth er southern states, but such Is not the case. A large number of moonshiners carry on the business In the heart ol Cleveland. Hundreds of gallons of Illicit whisky are distilled and sold here under the very eyes of the revenue onlcers. These quiet stills are operated more extensive ly among the Russian immigrants than any other class, although representa tives of other nationalities are engaged in this lucrative profession. They are very careful in their movements, for the revenue officers are continually on the lookout for them, and they employ ev ery conceivable means of precaution and escape in case of being trapped. While the penalty for the first offense is comparatively light, if they are caught a second time punishment is severe. A few weeks ago a distillery on the west side was discovered and several hundred gallons of whisky on which the tax had not been paid were confiscated, i Most of the moonshiners, however, con- ' duct their busin< ss so carefully that they remain undetected for years, i Sometimes the stills are conducted in basements, sometimes in upper stories, and two or three buildings are rented by moonshiners and used apparently for other purposes, while in reality they are but a blind to mislead. “Smelling Them Out.” It is extremely difficult to locate these distilleries, and skill and experience are required on the part of the detective to "smell them oat." Usually the moon shiners suspend business during the day, but under the cover of darkness operate in full blast. If the plant is of any considerable size the trained ear of the detective can recognize the chug j of the machinery at work. He is more apt, though, to locate the still by the peculiar odor arising from the chim neys, and one familiar with the smell can detect it as quickly as an opium den. On nights when there is no fog, or the atmosphere hangs heavy over the city, the smell settles down and it Is easy to locate the neighborhood. To find the exact building, however, it is I necessary to climb over roofs and sniff the chimneys. The moonshiners keep a close watch of the revenue men and as soon as they see that their neighbor hood is being watched they suspend operations. They are always ready to make a quick "get away," and even if their location is discovered the revenue men rarely get more than their para phernalia and some of the whisky. ADE BROUGHT BAG OF PEARLS Told Broadway Manager* H* Had His Own Shell Game on the Raneb. From the New York Morning Telegraph. George Ade, playwright, politician and pearl fisher arrived In New York recently from his farm at Brook, Ind. As soon as he had registered at the Holland house and informed the clerk not to sit up for him, he dug down in hts carpet bag for a parcel and wended his way to the office of Cohan & Harris where, after gaining admis sion, he delivered, neatly tied with blue ribbons, the complete manuscript ot "The City Chap," a new comedy La which the firm will present Jack Nmr worth early In the fall. “The City Chap,” as one of its char acters, has a type of the negro- to which the dramatist has given long and care ful thought. The role was written with Willis Sweatman in mind, and he Is greatly pleased with the characteriza tion. A large company is being en gaged and the play is to have the most elaborate presentation yet given ap Ade comedy. The author looked over the scene models and pronounced them perfect. Mr. Ade said: “ The City Chap' is all new and I enjoyed writing it- It covers fresh territory and presents American types that seem to me to de mand stage representation-’ Again making a quick • change he appeared and presented George M. Cohan and Sam H. Harris each with a fine rose pearl, which he had plucked with Ills own hands from the Iroquois river, where its flows through his farm. He had a large chamois bag filled with fine large pearls, which he Is to deliver to a Fifth avenue jeweler. In appropriate George Ade ^tyle he said: “I am now a real perler. Nix on this South sea stuff for me. We glean these gems out cf the wetness of the river right on the ranch. Why go else where? "Millions have been taken from the mussel shells In western rivers, so now 1 have a shell game of my own. The same raising of pearls must not be confused with the plucking of lobsters, which Is never done In the uncultured west where the authors come from.” Mr. Cohan, expressing great p easure at being presented with the bauble. In formed Jack Welsh In private that he believed them to be a portion of the Taft campaign fund. Mr. Ade will leave the city on Sat urday for Brock, where he will look after the crops and begin work on a revision of his comedy of undergrad uate life called "The Fair Co-Ed,” which was presented by the students of Purdue university last winter. Morn. In what a strange bewilderment do we Awake each morn from out the brief night’s sleep. Our struggling consciousness doth grope and creep its slow way back, as if it could not free I [seif from bonds unseen. Then Memory, Like sudden light, outflashes from its deep The Joy or